


Light the Water

by FullOnLarrie



Series: Don't Want Shelter [4]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Arguing, M/M, Older Harry, Older Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 07:34:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13429956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FullOnLarrie/pseuds/FullOnLarrie
Summary: A POV switch of the day that Louis and Harry start arguing the second they wake up and they keep at it all day, until Harry goes a little too far, Louis leaves, and Harry has to chase him down.If you haven’t read the rest of this series, please start withPart 1.





	Light the Water

**Author's Note:**

  * For [allwaswell16](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allwaswell16/gifts).



> Written for [Anitra](http://allwaswell16.tumblr.com/) <3
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> As always, thank you to [Nic](http://louandhazaf.tumblr.com/) for being the best beta!
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> **If you’d like to translate any of my fics, feel free, but please post the translation on ao3, and send me a link so that I can include it in the author’s notes.**
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> **Please do not post this fic or any of my other fics on any other websites.**

It’s one of those dreams where nothing makes sense, but everything is happy and warm and floaty and wonderful anyway. Harry hasn’t slept this hard since he stopped doing physical labor on a daily basis; he would pay good money if he could sleep like this every night for the rest of his life.

Unfortunately, he can’t actually sleep forever. With the panic that comes from being woken from a deep sleep by a loud noise, his heart races and his lungs try to keep up as he scrambles out of bed, only to find that the loud noise wasn’t a smoke alarm. It was Louis.

“What the fuck, asshole?” The adrenaline rushes through his body and his hands shake as he runs them through his hair. Leave it to Louis to ruin his subconscious. As if dealing with him during the day isn’t enough of a trial.

Louis flips him off from where he’s still laying down, sprawled on his stomach across his half of the bed, and slowly pushes himself up onto his hands and knees. Fuck. Harry turns his head away so fast that he has to reach up and massage his shoulder, and doesn’t even realize he’s turned back to watch him until Louis sits back on his heels and groans. Harry shakes his head and tries to look away, but he can’t stop watching Louis from the corner of his eye. He’s shaking his arm and circling his shoulder and muttering to himself. 

“What’s your problem?” Harry asks, failing to keep the bitterness out of his voice. Just… What a shitty way to start the day.

Louis circles his shoulder again and tips his head to the side to stretch his neck. “You’re fucking heavy, you dick. And you were sleeping on me, like, on my arm. Fucking hurts like a bitch.”

“You’re a bitch.” It slips out before he can think and he can’t take it back. He’s certainly not going to apologize now that Louis is yelling at him, so he yells back. 

There’s only so much he can scream before seven o’clock in the morning, and it seems like Louis agrees because they don’t stop fighting, but they do it a little quieter. It’s sort of funny because he’s not even really mad anymore, but he won’t stop as long as Louis isn’t stopping so it’s likely that they’ll still be arguing about this tomorrow.

Though, he’s going to be up on the roofing ladder while Louis and Liam work from the scaffolding, so there’ll be a slight reprieve. 

«»

There’s no reprieve. Louis just starts shouting at him from the scaffolding, and at this point it’s the most petty, ridiculous, childish bullshit Harry’s ever heard. Louis just insulted the way he climbs a ladder, for fuck’s sake. While they install the first long piece of eave flashing on the edge of the roof, they’re all quiet, concentrating. In his peripheral vision, he can see Louis and he’s obviously favoring his right arm. There’s a twinge of guilt in Harry’s stomach and he decides to apologize. 

Except he can’t apologize. Because Louis won’t shut the fuck up long enough for Harry to get a word in. And… He’s embarrassed. Liam’s watching them and apparently thinks it’s hilarious, but it’s not. It’s fucking annoying and he hates when Louis gets like this, talking over people like he’s the only person in the world with anything to say. Harry wants him to shut up.

“My fucking arm feels completely useless, like deadweight.” Louis says, staring pointedly at Harry, his voice sharp and harsh. 

“You’re completely useless, deadweight.” Harry mutters, sort of. Because he says it loud enough for both Louis and Liam to hear. He just wants someone on his side against Louis for once. And this is the first thing Harry’s been able to even say for like ten minutes because Louis has been insulting him nonstop.

“You know what? Fine. Fuck this. Do it without me then.” Louis drops his corner of the scaffolding, pulls his work gloves off and throws them at Harry. He walks away, over the dunes and Harry watches him go with his mouth hanging wide open. 

“What the fuck?” Harry pushes his sunglasses up into his hair, drops his hands to his hips, and turns to look at Liam, thinking they’ll commiserate about Louis’ ridiculousness and have a good laugh about it before Louis drags his ass back across the dunes.

But Liam’s watching him and he doesn’t look amused at all. “What’s with you guys today? What’s with his arm?”

The guilt just kind of appears out of nowhere. He managed to push it aside and forget about it for most of the day so far, too wrapped up in one upping Louis and trading insults. “I, um… fuck.”

“Okay…”

“Shit. I kind of… I hurt him, but it was accidental.” Harry sighs and Liam doesn’t look like he believes him. “I swear, Li! Fuck, I’ll…” He doesn’t finish his thought, just pulls off his gloves and goes after Louis.

When he crosses over the dunes, Harry realizes how in their bubble they’ve been while they’ve been focused on the house. It's summer. It’s tourist season. And the beach is packed. He doesn’t see Louis anywhere and there’s this weird almost fear that hits him, but he shakes it off. It’s not like Louis is a child who’s wandered off. He just acts like it sometimes. With his hand shading his eyes, he looks off towards the pier, and he’s pretty sure that’s him. He’s still walking, getting further away by the second, so Harry takes off running.

Finally, Louis stops near the edge of the water, so Harry slows to a jog to try to catch his breath. “Hey, Lou, don’t…” He stops and rests his hands on his hips. “Don’t leave.”

“Fuck you. And don’t make some smart ass comment about how you’ve already done that either. I’ll punch you in the fucking mouth.”

Harry watches him for a moment, biting his upper lip and trying to find a way to explain and apologize. He knows Louis won’t hit him, but it’s a testament to how pissed off he is that he’d even threaten it. Fuck it. “I’m sorry.”

Louis turns and squints at him, the sun is in his eyes, but he doesn’t drop his gaze. He’s clearly still angry and not giving in and… Fuck. Harry forgot that Louis was genuinely worried about doing the job well. The fact that he’s pouting about it makes it impossible not to roll his eyes.

“I’m sorry and… I’m sorry about what I said. I didn’t mean it and you know it’s not true. I just told you that yesterday.” 

“Whatever.” Louis turns back to face the water. 

Harry frowns and stares at the side of his head, trying to will him to turn back around and just fucking accept his apology, but he doesn’t look back. 

“Hey, I’m serious.” Harry tugs on Louis’ arm and Louis hisses as he spins to face him. Harry cringes. “Shit. I’m sorry about your arm. I… I know it’s my fault. I was…” He really doesn’t want to say it. This is like… He might as well strip naked in front of everyone on the beach or, fuck, tell Louis about the crush he had on him when they were kids.

Louis drops his head to the side and says, “You were…”

“I was embarrassed, okay?” Harry crosses his arms over his chest and looks away. He can fight it when he’s awake, but apparently, when he’s sleeping, his body can’t keep away from Louis. Fucking stupid, gorgeous, asshole. “That’s like the third time I’ve like… practically slept on top of you.”

“Huh?”

“I slept on your arm, yeah, but I was like… on your back. I was all over you.” His words are coming easier than he thought they would, so he continues. “And during the storm, when we were drunk, I know I was sleeping on you because I woke up when you yanked your arm out from under my head. And the other day too.” Shit. He didn’t mean to bring that up.

“You said I was holding onto you.”

“I mean…” Harry sighs. There’s no backing out now. “You were, but I was crowding you. On your side of the bed. I woke up and my face was pressed into your chest and it was like I was some sort of sleeping octopus with the way I’d wrapped my arms and legs around you.”

“Really.” Louis smirks. Well, fuck. Harry knows that smirk, so he tries to prepare himself for Louis’ smart mouth.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I must’ve moved your pillow or something in my sleep and just…” Harry doesn’t know why he’s still talking. He should really shut up before he digs himself a deeper hole.

“It’s fine, Styles.” Louis bites his bottom lip, tips his chin up, and raises one eyebrow. Harry kind of hates him because he’s so effortlessly sexy. “I know I’m sexy.”

“What?” For a split second, Harry thinks Louis read his thoughts, but that’s impossible. “That’s not—”

“No, it’s fine. I’m hot.” Louis winks and turns to walk back towards the house. What the fuck. He _is_ hot, but he doesn’t have to be such an arrogant asshole about it. Harry starts after him just as he turns around and smacks himself on the ass and says, “Everyone wants a piece of this.”

No, no, no. This is not the way this was supposed to go. “I didn’t say…” Harry jogs to catch up. “It was an accident. I didn’t meant to do it.” He can’t help that his stupid subconscious wants him to be physically close to Louis. It’s not as if he can control it.

“Three times? I don’t think so.” Louis looks over, lowers his glasses a little, blue eyes bright in the sunshine, and winks again. “You want me. It’s fine. I should be used to it by now. It’s the hair.”

“The hair? You think so?” Harry chews on the inside of his cheek and then bites down hard. It’s a stupid thing to be jealous of, how much Louis’ salt and pepper hair suits him, but it’s as if he’s gotten better looking as each year has passed. Briefly, Harry wonders about the years in between, how Louis handled it when he started to go gray, how old he was when it happened, and how he feels in general about getting older. 

For as long as Harry’s known him, he’s always been so confident. When they were kids, it was part of Harry’s fascination with him. As if he thought he could catch hold of it, absorb it from being close to Louis, breathe it in or something, like his self-assurance was something in the air surrounding him. It didn’t work. Not that he didn't try.

“Yep. I’ve been told that I’m a silver fox.” Louis runs his fingers through his hair, carefully brushing it across his forehead. “Which apparently means that not only am I hot, but I’m hotter with gray hair.”

“Whatever.” Harry mutters, even though it’s true. Asshole. Self-consciously, he reaches up to touch his hair. He dyed it just before the storm, so he knows he’s good to go for a while, but he can’t help the uneasiness that he feels. A decision he made when he was barely past thirty, because the guy he was seeing at the time made fun of the few gray hairs at his temples and called him ‘old man’, turned into a never ending cycle. He’d ended up single again shortly thereafter, decided to let the dye grow out, panicked when he saw that there were a few more grays that he remembered, and dyed it again. 

“I’m irresistible.” Louis grins at him and Harry follows him back over the dunes. He’s such a dick sometimes. Irresistible. Hardly. Harry pushes his sunglasses up in his hair to wipe away the sweat that’s dripping in his eyes. He blinks and Louis is bent over in front of him, ass up in the air, the elastic band of his underwear peeking out over the waist of his shorts. Harry scowls, angry at the desire that wells up in him against his will, and Louis stands up and turns to face him before Harry can look away. “Oh, is that why you were mad about Evan? Did he tell you he thinks I’m hot? Normally I like my men a little taller and a little older, but I’m not opposed.”

Harry slides his sunglasses back down and walks towards the ladder, calling back over his shoulder, “Shut the fuck up and get back to work.”

Louis laughs and says, “Yes, sir.”

For the rest of the day, Louis doesn’t shut up. Harry can’t decide which is worse—Louis legitimately mad at him or Louis thinking he’s funny, being fucking annoying, picking on him, making shit up, and calling Harry jealous. Either way, he won’t stop talking. And he keeps bringing up Evan, which… Harry tries not to look at Liam every time Louis mentions him, willing Liam not to say anything. The last thing he wants is for Louis to know the truth about that situation.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! [Here's a Tumblr post](http://fullonlarrie.tumblr.com/post/169929663445/light-the-water-part-4-of-dont-want-shelter-by) if you'd like to share :)


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